Poems from the Funeral 1/6

Who’s Turning the Kaleidoscope? Kaleidoscopic fragments of your war-time years spin through my mind: starting Medicine at the Sorbonne, black-marketed nylons and cigarettes, Mercedes hidden in haystacks, people hidden in haystacks poked by bayonets, men in a boat, you amongst them, betrayed by a girl one of them slept with – one of you, I should perhaps say, though I never have till now… The mouth of a cave blackened by gun-powder - yours or your enemy’s? Someone’s ambush. Having to dig a trench – or was it a pit? then line up, all of you, along the edge, machine-guns at your backs: shrapnel in your legs saw you fall with the others, but the miracle was you did not suffocate before the guerrillas found you and one other out of all that lot. Someone has pointed out that you don’t get shrapnel from machine-guns. That’s right, I realise. Don’t know any more if it’s your kaleidoscope or mine that has mingled the fragments, but I do remember those unusual scars on your shins. I remember that word and I have watched your tormented sleep. The camps, you being nick-named Ghandhi after release – so thin from typhoid. You a translator, relied on for your eight languages, able to get privileges – was this the time of nylons, cigarettes and Mercedes? You hungry and unemployed in Paris. No benefits to refuse in the France of ’45. For the Stateless Person: No job without a permit to stay, (I have your Permis de Sejour still) No permit to stay without a job. You spent all day in one queue, next day in the other, you told me. Queue-jumping, meaning refusal to queue, has become a catchword of blame in Australian politics, you might be interested to know, though many of the countries to which it is applied have no queues for people to join. In one of the camps, a woman and child, a little boy you’d later adopt, a beautiful woman you’d later marry. He stuck with you because you stuck with him when she did not. And now he is our family, though you are gone. A child’s satin-covered missal from his first communion holds your joint naturalisation papers: talismans of your new life. He leaves it in my care. Trusts me with that and other things. On his rare trips north, he used to arrive sometimes unannounced, but we came to know who would be sleeping in any van with the dashboard smothered in fallen blooms. Stone-mason sings: At the end of all this, I’ll scoop up frangipanni – handfuls, armfuls, facefuls of fragrant white and gold, cool suede, rich and fresh. In my bed I’ll roll in it, crush its beauty for my own like a cat in catnip.

A link to a booklet about the funeral and the wake

Douglas put together a digital booklet with a few photographs - if you copy and paste this link into your browser you should see a pdf version you can download and print if you so desire: http://www.dugfish.com/Helen.pdf

Helen's Funeral/Celebration, the wake and cremation

The Funeral/Life Celebration Many wonderful people travelled to Darwin to farewell Helen, sent their love and thoughts in physical ways as well as virtually via the web and also gathered from amongst her Darwin community. Notable in the interstate and international visitors were some of her family - Robin, David, Jennifer, Dorothy, Jamie, Alex and Greig: siblings, nieces, nephews, cousins as well as Lyn, a dear friend from Melbourne Uni days and Peta, a special friend and colleague from Brisbane. Also Douglas, Dave, Emma and Susan. Our friends Gabe, Diane, Susan and Emma made food for the celebration gathering and the wake. We had our life celebration at the Uniting Church in Nightcliff and their kind one-time minister Lee made himself available to support us and facilitate our ceremony. As it turns out Lee is also a poet and he particularly enjoyed being introduced to Helen's work. We began with an acknowledgement of the Church and its space, an acknowledgement of the Larrakia and a welcome from Louis. All family members and several friends had brought flowers from the gardens and roadsides of Darwin and the space was strewn with Frangipanni, Poinsettia, Heliconia and those big salmon-tinted tissue-paper flowers that grow near Helen's old house. We had Shirley's portrait and the decoupaged coffin out the front. On the side there was an installation of family photo albums, slideshows of photos of Helen on a computer and this blog running live on another computer for those who had never seen it. Douglas projected a photo of Helen laughing up above the lectern. The music to welcome people was the Cistercian Monk chants that Helen used to so enjoy when she was having contemplative time at home alone. Louis, Sally and I all learnt to enjoy these during her illness. After his welcome Louis invited us all to share a few minutes contemplation in silence. We thought of Helen and what she meant to us and why we had come together. Robin came forward and shared some thoughts of Helen as a young girl and also memories he was given by some of the older members of our family who had not been able to come in person. One I liked (and had not heard before) was how Cynthia - Helen's aunt and an academic at Melbourne Uni used to find messages from Mum chalked on the footpath in front of her office! Nothing too outre - most often invitations to lunch or some-such but still delightfully eccentric. Eccentricity, quirkiness, charm and creativity were hallmarks of all the stories and memories brought forth. Douglas spoke - his memories include Helen flooring it on the Western Highway in a borrowed 2CV and shouting Whoopee! as he held tightly to the car door. He also acknowledged how special he thought she was as a therapist in her combination of art with practice. Helen's dear friend Kaye shared memories of how they met at a writing workshop soon after Helen came to the NT and of their firm friendship thereafter. I read 6 poems from Helen's collected works including one unpublished. I will post them in the next few blog entries. We had another minute or sos silence for reflection then Dave read a piece about Death from the Prophet - Khalil Gibran - a favourite book (and author) throughout Helen's life. "And when the Earth shall claim your limbs then shall you truly dance" I then invited people to come forward and write words on the coffin if they wished, mingle and share cupcakes and tea, peruse the photos and other installation work and if they felt inclined - to choose a memento from the selection of household items, jewelry and crockery I had assembled near the front door. We also had copies of Helen's published poetry for people to take away as well as photocopies of an interview done with Nadia Milosevic which profiled Helen for the Australian and New Zealand Journal of Family Therapy back in 2009 before she got sick. In closing we played the soundtrack to a performance of "The Grimstones" - a piece of music which made Helen smile whenever she heard it. Our celebration was everything Louis and I wanted it to be and many others found the ceremony both moving and appropriate for Helen. The Wake We gathered on the Nightcliff Foreshore as planned. Kaye was the first arrival having stayed in Darwin all day after the funeral. She was sitting under the Casuarinas enjoying the antics of the black cockies , the rainbow lorikeets and the sea breeze but not savouring the sandflies quite so much. It struck me that this too was an apposite experience in memory of Helen, who had many conflicting times between her desire to enjoy time with friends by the sea and her desire to avoid being devoured by midgies! We had an abundance of champagne, cool water, delicious snacks (rice paper rolls, dips and quiches) and lots of people came to spend time with us and remember Helen in a joyous manner. As sunset approached there was a wonderful light-show over the ocean with a wet season storm circling around us. Lightning, thunder, a wonderful breeze and beautiful patterns in the sky. The Cremation Initially we had planned the cremation would happen on the Wednesday - in between the morning and evening gatherings. There were various confusions regarding paperwork and organisation and in the end we deferred it until Thursday. I felt quite relieved about this as it had all seemed a bit too much on Wednesday. In my original thinking I had planned that just Louis and I would go and say goodbye to Mum in the coffin (now added to with wishes and words from many loved ones). It turned out that some of those visiting really wanted to be part of this too and as things transpired - thank goodness! It would have been very peculiar for just poor little us to be there on our own. The company we chose for the cremation is a family business that has been around for quite a long time (since 1954 in fact!). They were the people I originally bought the coffin from and although they were somewhat odd at the time they were also earnest and intent on looking after us as best they could. In the beginning they had some trouble accepting that we wanted to do everything ourselves and in our own way but once this was clear we planned that we would attend for the cremation only. We had been told that the company had recently bought its own new cremating oven and they had also prepared a "viewing room" out the back for families to gaze in at the oven through a small window. We arrived at 7.30am on Thursday - Louis, me, Robin, Jennifer, Dorothy and Peta. The "viewing room" was singularly awful. Very new bessa brink room, painted some bland colour and without any ornamentation. Ugly new sofa in one corner. Tight, "hard-wearing" plasticky grey carpet. A greyish roller blind covering a small window set asymmetrically on an internal wall. And most disturbingly - a horribly pervasive chemically smell which may have been from the carpet and the sofa but seemed very much like burning. In the past when I have attended cremations in Brisbane the coffin has trundled down a conveyor belt sort of thing and then disappeared behind curtains. In this case everything is way more upfront. We were invited into the room with the oven which was a large grey metal machine sitting in state surrounded by a clean concrete slab and plain painted bessa brick walls. Helen's coffin was sitting on a trolley/gurney in front of it. We arranged frangipanis and hair (from our hair-shaving ceremony back in Brisbane at the beginning of chemo) along the top of the coffin, admired it with its new inscriptions and said our farewells. We then retired to the "viewing room" and he raised the roller blind. Looking in we saw exactly where we had been standing a few moments earlier and the machine in all its glory. With a nod (and a certain air of solemnity) he pushed Helen's coffin inside and set the dials to start. It took about 1.5 seconds! He then emerged and stated that some people like to hear about the machine and how it works. With barely a pause to ascertain whether we were that kind or not he was off! A monologue of impressive proportions had begun. He ranged from technical details of cremation, his own practice and beliefs in this area, his philosophy on choosing a wife, his parents' background and reasons for starting the business (including admittedly fascinating Darwin historical detail on how deaths were dealt with back in the 50s), what life was like when he used to work as a musterer (plus how much he earnt a week when mustering vs funeral directing) and then gave us chapter and verse on the great job satisfaction inherent in his current role. It was apparent he feels he does a great job. We were all somewhat hornswoggled. I made a few gentle and then less gentle attempts to wind him up and eventually we left. As Dorothy, Jennifer, Peta and I drove away we marveled at his lack of insight and sensitivity to social cues but also mused on how delightfully peculiar and entertaining the experience was and how much we thought Helen would have enjoyed it. Both Louis and I were glad to have had both the company and social support that we did for this decidedly non-spiritual and non-meaningful experience and glad too that the day before had gone so much as we had hoped.

Venue for Helen's Drinks tonight

Despite the rumblings of thunder and gloominess of sky we are gathering on the Nightcliff foreshore from six ish tonight (Wed 7th). Corner of Jacaranda ave and Casuarina drive. We have eskies with ice, bubbles, water, dips, snacks and a variety of yummy things... So come if you can and watch the storm roll in over the Arafura Sea as we say farewell.

Helen's Farewell

Dear Natasha & Louis,   It is with a heaviness in my heart and a lump in my throat that I write to you at this sad time.   Helen was my first professional supervisor nearly three decades ago. While I had known Frank as a charismatic and somewhat enigmatic teacher, I came to know Helen through many discussions at Weinholt Street. Her practice then left the first indelible etchings on my mind. She charged for her services as supervisor on the basis that one hour of her time was worth one of the supervisees'. Humility has no better definition. And later, she allowed me to be counted amongst her friends. Felt honoured then, still do.  

Helen remained a trusted , wise colleague with whom many clients were discussed over many, many years. Some took place late at night when she would welcome me into her home after I finished work and ply me thoughtfully and generously with food and drink. The conversations often had little preamble. "Hi Helen. Can I talk to you about these people I'm seeing?" No matter that at times weeks or months between contact had elapsed. While her poetry provoked me, her supervision focussed me. Both had characteristic Helen-isms: sharp, astute observation of self and others, confrontation eclipsed by compassion, contagiously wonderful,carefully-chosen expression.

 

Interspersed in my life are intensely Helen experiences. The Ladies Labourers Guild, the Family Court, QPASST, family therapy, introducing my kids to chickens in the back yard, wampi tree planting, a story about being hen-pecked especially for the middle anxious one, gifts of German secateurs(still used) and 9 miniature Israeli vases depicting my pregnancy. The professional and the personal interwoven always. An all time high was her very welcomed attendance at my older kids bat and bar mitzvah. She distinguished herself by being the only guest (including family) to attend the rabbi's talk prior to one service. He was delighted. Such was her whole-hearted involvement.

 

Helen paved the way for me to meet and come to know you both a bit. You're lucky in life when people extend and enrich your tiny world. You both have. From seeing Natasha the circus performer and  experiencing Louis the yoga teacher to some meaningful, cherished conversations. Like your mother, on the occasions we talk, it's unpretentious, direct and allows me to be as honest and complete as I can be. Thank you. I regret I could not be with Helen more and support you in your devoted care of her.

 

In my Jewish world, the term for Helen would be 'A Woman of Worth'. If I could, this is what I would write on her coffin. The description continues"her price is far above rubies". Hers is a life well lived, rich and varied in its gifts. I will miss her.

 

Love,

 

Peta

A few images from Helen's life in Darwin

Bananas she grew at St John's Court - cut down with the bread knife as is traditional in our family!

The tiniest of green frogs - Helen delighted in breeding frogs in her various abodes.

Tropical fruit - also a delight.

The housewarming waterlily I gave her some years ago - it's first flower in the pond that Louis built.

Plans for funeral/life celebration and gathering

Louis and I have planned to have a morning celebration of Helen's life in Nightcliff at 10am on Wednesday 7th December. This will be followed by a morning tea thingy. In the afternoon Louis and I and the odd family member will go out to the Resthaven Funeral Home for her cremation and we are thinking of hosting sunset bubbles on the Nightcliff Foreshore (one of Helen's favourite things to do) as a mini-wake. The life celebration ceremony will be at the Nightcliff Uniting Church at 35 Cummins St, Nightcliff. The Church is a lovely social justice oriented community which has been very welcoming and supportive of our family and although we and our ceremony will be very non-religious they have generously offered to host us and we are very happy to be there. I still plan to ask people to write on the coffin and have been sent a few words to write for other people - if you are coming bring a word in your mind :). As far as the wake goes - please watch this space for more info as I feel the need to go and check it out for mozzies, breezes, sun etc before locking that in as a definite plan. Both events will be casual and open and anyone who has love and caring for Helen is welcome. Those planning to come from interstate it would be good to plan to stay Tuesday night through to Thursday morning at least. We have some accommodation options amongst our friends and neighbours so please let us know if you are coming.